


Until the end starts

by gottalovev



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Miscommunication, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-09
Updated: 2013-01-09
Packaged: 2017-11-23 23:24:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/627671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gottalovev/pseuds/gottalovev
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a distraught Stiles kisses him, Derek stops it for Stiles' own good. It's the right thing to do, even though he likes Stiles too. When weeks later Stiles falls for somebody else, Derek is happy for him. Really. </p>
<p>- or: Derek is self-sacrificing and pines like a champ, but eventually gets his happy ending. No partner betrayal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Until the end starts

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Teen Wolf Reverse Bang - Graphic Prompt](https://archiveofourown.org/works/629926) by [keyweegirlie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/keyweegirlie/pseuds/keyweegirlie). 



> .
> 
> This is a story made for [twreversebang](http://twreversebang.livejournal.com) where I had the privilege to work from beautiful art made by [keyweegirlie](http://archiveofourown.org/users/keyweegirlie). I fell in love with the art before even knowing who had made it, and that the artist was my dear Cassie was an awesome surprise. 
> 
> Please go see the art at [this A03 entry](http://archiveofourown.org/works/629926) and tell her how great it is :) There is tons of great stuff, believe me!
> 
> Also, a million thanks to my beta, [taste_is_sweet](http://taste-is-sweet.livejournal.com) who helped me so much with this one.

[ ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/626578)

It's quiet, in the end. Everyone is shocked by Jackson's transformation, and Derek can't help but feel a quiet wonder at the enormity of what happened. As Peter said, there's a whole lot of power in human love and they've had direct proof of it. In Derek's personal experience love only ever hurts, though he's aware that he's been dealt a shitty hand for years. 

Slowly, the group splits up: life goes on, no matter what. Derek should go with Peter and Chris Argent to track Gerard, make sure the old man is dead. But even though he's aware that he’s been a pretty bad Alpha up until now, he knows Isaac shouldn't be left alone. After making sure Stiles is okay to drive Jackson and Lydia home, and Allison leaves with Scott, Derek brings Isaac back to the abandoned train station. He realizes the mistake of choosing to retreat to this place as soon as they enter and hear how quiet it is. 

"Do you think they're okay?" Isaac asks softly.

"They're tough." Derek hopes that he has mastered the Alpha's ability to mask his smell, because he's not at all sure that Boyd and Erica are fine. They left, abandoned the pack (him), but he feels like he should go looking for them anyway. Maybe later, when Isaac is settled.

They've barely dropped to rest on the most recently rescued couch when Derek hears Stiles' Jeep. That's puzzling--what is he doing here? Derek tells Isaac to stay put and climbs the stairs two by two to meet Stiles outside. There's something unsettling in a subdued Stiles, who's still too pale and smells of heartbreak.

"What's going on?" 

Stiles closes his Jeep's door and leans against it. And doesn't speak.

Worried now, Derek walks up to him. "Stiles. What's wrong?"

With a snort Stiles finally looks up. "Everything?"

Derek had noticed the marks on Stile's face in the warehouse, and now that he has the opportunity he takes hold of Stiles chin and examines him properly. Something dark and angry churns in Derek's gut, especially since Stiles smells so strongly of Gerard that it's obvious the old psycho was the culprit. 

Stiles patiently lets Derek turn his face.

"I'm fine."

It's a lie, and it makes the wolf come even closer to the surface. "I should have killed him weeks ago. He had no right to touch you."

To Derek's surprise, Stiles moves in and winds his arms around Derek's middle before burying his face in his neck. Shocked, Derek stiffens at first, but since Stiles doesn't let go it's instinct to close his arms around Stiles and hold him in return. It makes Stiles cling a little tighter and a sob racks his lithe frame, prompting Derek to stroke his back. He doesn't know why Stiles is seeking comfort from him, of all people, and the feeling of pure helplessness to make anything better is suffocating. He can't tell Stiles everything is going to be okay since he has no idea himself, but he makes shushing noises and brings a hand up to scratch at the short hair of Stiles' nape. Stiles is trying really hard not to cry, his breath labored and his heart beating too fast. 

He can't bring himself to push Stiles away once he starts to calm down, though he feels the quiet despair turning into something different, headier. It's only when Stiles' breath hitches and he slides a hand down to brush tentative fingers on the skin at the edge of Derek's belt that Derek recognizes arousal. It's not the first time he'd smelled it on Stiles, but it's never been clear who he was interested in. Derek's not stupid, his looks have scored him easy sex for years, but right now Derek is sure that it's just Stiles' hormones going haywire because he's pressed to a warm body. He can't be interested in Derek--they're barely friends and have nothing in common. The fact that _Derek_ wants Stiles is a thought he discards immediately, because even if Stiles did get under his skin, somehow, nothing indicates that it's mutual.

When Stiles moves, Derek thinks he's going to step away and pretend nothing happened but instead Stiles turns his head and kisses him, desperate and needy. Derek freezes and almost immediately Stiles jerks back, flushed red in embarrassment.

"Shit, shit, shit. I'm sorry!" he squeaks. 

Derek blinks and brings a hand up to his mouth, still feeling the ghost of Stiles' lips. Whatever comfort Stiles is looking for, he shouldn’t seek Derek for it. Derek would just make everything worse, he knows it. Stiles deserves someone good, who can take care of him.

"Oh my God. I don't know what I was thinking. In fact I _wasn't_ thinking." Stiles flails, gestures up and down at Derek. "You were just there being you with the hug and the muscles and the face and you smell amazing and fuck, of course you're straight, can you please not kill me for this so we can pretend nothing happened?"

"Don't do that again," Derek says, curt. If Stiles did try again, Derek would be tempted to kiss back. And that would be disastrous. 

Stiles hunches in on himself. "Yes, okay, got it. No more kissing. Does that mean you'll let me live?"

"Don't be stupid," Derek says with a sigh. He so wishes he had more patience, because Stiles always uses all of it. "I won't hurt you."

"Excellent!" With false cheer, Stiles claps his hands. "I plead momentary insanity and it's all forgotten. No problem."

Derek is about to ask why Stiles came over--he's certain it wasn't for a hug, let alone a kiss--when he hears noises coming from the mouth of the alley. Immediately on alert, he sniffs the air. It's Boyd and Erica, but they smell terrified. Hurt, like prey.

"Stiles," he snaps. "Inside. Now." 

"What?" Stiles tenses, listening. "What's going on?"

"I said get in!" Derek barks before running towards the Betas. Of course Stiles doesn't listen to him and follows, but Derek can't afford to be distracted right now. He just hopes the boy will stay out of the way if there's danger, not that Stiles is usually good with self-preservation.

Fortunately, Boyd and Erica are alone, hanging heavily on each other while slowly shuffling forward. There's no mistaking their relief when they see Derek, and Boyd slumps against the wall before sliding to the ground, bringing Erica down with him. They smell of Gerard and unknown wolves, which raises Derek's hackles. He snarls in the direction they came from, knowing that his eyes flash red and his fangs are fully grown. 

"Derek..." Boyd murmurs.

Derek walks over and assesses their injuries: multiple claw marks, still bloody, so they must have encountered the Alpha pack. Derek didn't know the Alphas had made it to Beacon Hills already. The Betas were also shot several times, especially Boyd, and those marks reek of the Argent's handy work. No wolfsbane, though, which is a tremendous relief because it means they'll survive. Derek is furious, and it must be obvious despite how hard he's trying to hide his scent, because Boyd and Erica whine like hurt puppies and bare their throats in submission. They smell of shame, fear and hope.

But Derek's not angry at them, despite how they betrayed him. He's furious at himself, because he couldn't prevent what happened to them. What kind of Alpha can't protect his own pack?

"Oh my God!" Here comes Stiles, who falls to his knees next to Erica. "Are you okay? You texted me that you escaped! You said that Chris Argent helped you. You were supposed to be okay!"

Erica gladly goes into Stiles' arms when they close around her and her heartbeat settles a bit. "We did, but then…"

"There's a pack. Alphas…" Boyd starts.

"So they're here," Derek says, restless. He's fucked. There's no way he's strong enough to keep his status with the pack he has left (Isaac; Peter; That's about it). "I guess there's a message?"

"They said you'd never take us back," Erica murmurs, hiding her face in Stiles' neck. Stiles holds her tighter. 

"Of course he'll take you back!" Stiles states, so sure of it that Derek wavers. His Betas betrayed him. Normally they'd be cast out, forced to become Omegas. "It's okay. Derek understands you made a mistake, that you were afraid." Stiles looks at Derek pointedly as he says so.

Derek doesn't really have any choice, though, regardless of what he's feeling. There's no time to make new wolves and Scott has made it clear he'll never recognize Derek as his Alpha. Worse is how painfully aware Derek is that Boyd and Erica left because he failed them as their Alpha. He wasn't there for them when they needed him, so they tried to find another Alpha who would be. Their wounds are as much Derek's fault as the other pack's. He nods at Stiles.

"Can you help her up?" he asks and Stiles relaxes and smiles happily, as if Derek just did _him_ a favor.

"Yeah, got it. Come on, Blondie." Stiles stands and pulls at Erica, who hangs on to him like a lifeline. 

Derek hauls Boyd up too, who makes a pained noise before he softly says, "Thank you." Derek hadn't expected Boyd to sound so sincere.

"Last chance," he growls, because he can't let them step all over him ever again, or he won't have any authority left. He adjusts Boyd's arm over his shoulders and strides forward, going slowly enough not to hurt him too much.

"It's okay, we're almost there." Stiles is crooning in Erica's ear. "Come on. You're awesome, you can do it."

"Of course I'm awesome," Erica replies. Her voice is shaky and only a tenth of her usual spunk. "I'm just a little tired, that's all."

Stiles laughs. "Yeah, sure that's all. Me, too. Come on, let's get you into the marvelously comfy werecentral. Oh, right, sorry. I mean the crappy and thoroughly depressing werecentral. We'll get you cleaned up and bandaged like a fabulous burrito in no time."

"Ohh, will you give me a sponge bath?" Erica quips.

"A what?" Stiles squeaks, and stumbles as Erica snickers. 

That Erica has a crush a mile wide on Stiles is common knowledge to everyone with wolf senses, apart maybe for Scott, whom Derek supposes is purposely dense. She nags and annoys Stiles in textbook pigtail pulling fashion all the time, though Stiles never quite seems to catch on. But this flirtation was obvious enough that even Stiles didn't miss it, though, and to Derek's surprise it makes something white hot flare in him.

_MINE_. 

Derek's so shocked by that he doesn't even realize he's buried his claws into Boyd's side until the poor Beta whines.

Derek purposely avoids listening to Erica and Stiles and he's grateful when Isaac appears to help, smelling of worry and relief. Between the three of them, they have Erica and Boyd safe in the train station and then cleaned and bandaged soon enough.

"They said they're coming for you next," Boyd tells Derek.

Yeah, he'd figured that one out, thank you very much. 

  


It's pretty simple: the Alpha pack has come to Beacon Hills to challenge Derek and his territory, and Derek has only three options. Either he submits and condemns himself and his Betas to exile and Omega status, or he fights to keep his rights (and lives). Or there's door number three, where he fights to keep his rights and dies. Of course, there could even be a fourth alternative where the Alpha pack invites Derek to join them--but he's pretty sure that one's not going to happen. He wouldn't be interested anyway.

Even though he knows that he's at a disastrous disadvantage in terms of pack number and experience, Derek doesn't even consider rolling over. The Alpha pack has been circling them for weeks now, starting right after Erica and Boyd came back, intimidating and showing off as much as they've dared (which turns out to be a lot). It's pretty obvious they're done playing, though. Derek received a message earlier today that the final showdown will be during the full moon which is coming in three days. 

It's not enough time to prepare, and he knows there's no way the Betas will be strong enough--he's seen what they'll be up against. It goes against every instinct he has, but Derek has called an emergency meeting at the train depot where he paints a bleak but realistic picture of how it will go down: he's going fight until he drops. What the others do is their choice. The statement is followed by a heavy silence where the pack watches him with wide eyes and barely concealed fear. 

It's Peter who reacts first with a low whistle. "Don't break it to us gently, or anything. " 

"I'm not gonna lie," Derek replies.

"So, what you're saying is that we can run away--and since we lose our Alpha we'll be Omegas--or, if we're insane, we die fighting," Jackson says, shocked.

Derek nods. "They don't take Betas. No wolves will be allowed to stay in their territory."

"What about the humans? They know about us," Lydia says. She's gripping Allison's hand firmly, and beside her Erica is doing the same with Stiles. Erica, Boyd, Isaac and, surprisingly, Stiles and Scott have taken to hanging out together a lot lately, and they've mostly been moving as one unit tonight. As for Allison, it's the first time since the warehouse showdown that she's been asked to join them for pack business, but Derek figured he owed her the explanation.

"Stay safe at home." Derek says. "The Alphas will leave you alone."

"Hey!" Stiles protests vehemently. "Are you nuts? You want me to stay home and wait until morning to know if my best friend came through a big Alpha showdown alive? No fucking way!"

Derek glares at him. "I said _I'll_ fight them. Scott can go. You can all go. Save your hides." He hates Stiles a little for forcing him to say that out loud. He doesn't want the kids' deaths on his conscience, but sending his pack away is one of the hardest things he's ever done. 

"Oh my God, you are such a martyr!" Stiles throws his hands in the air.

Peter snorts. "He's got you there, Derek."

Always so helpful, isn't he? Derek bares his teeth at Peter and asks, deceptively agreeable, "And what will you do, _Uncle?_ " It's the first time that he's called him that since before the fire, and yes it's pretty much an insult. Derek doesn't give a fuck.

Derek isn't surprised by the eye roll, but he is a little by Peter's answer. "Fight with you, of course. Beacon Hills has been Hale territory for five generations. No way am I letting those assholes take it."

That's what he's saying right now, at least. It's a shame Derek can't count on it. He wonders if Peter will turn on him if the opportunity presents itself.

"Come on, _nephew_ , let's go take a walk," Peter says, sly smile in place. It's clearly to give the pups space to make their own decision. Since it's a good idea, Derek follows.

Fighting in the woods on a full moon is only an advantage for werewolves because of the extra savagery it brings forth to their animal side. Otherwise it's just showmanship. Or, if you want to be sentimental about it, maybe tradition. In this particular case, it's also an intelligent move by the Alpha pack because they know that Derek's wolves are barely turned and therefore aren't in full control, especially on full moons. It's a moot point, though, because it's only going to be him and Peter. 

Derek doesn't expect to make it through this. He's not expecting the Alpha pack to be quick about killing them, either. They'll drag it out, to humiliate him first. 

Speaking of the Alpha pack, they don't even try to be subtle in their approach to the clearing that they chose for the fight, where Peter and Derek are waiting in silence (thank God for small favors; Derek isn't sure if he'd not kill Peter himself before anyone else tries if he'd joke right now).

It's supposed to be a pack of equal-ranked Alphas, but that's bullshit. Derek doesn't buy the line that Deucalion is the leader. It's the female, Kali, though she's intelligent enough to be subtle about it in order to not have a mutiny on her hands. 

"Aww, they all left you, didn't they?" Kali says, smiling wide enough to show her fangs. "What a poor Alpha you make, Derek Hale. We're going to do you a favor when we put you out of your misery."

Derek hates that she's kind of right.

"Whatever. Are we gonna fight or what?" Derek says, changing. Adrenaline makes the wolf eager to kill, and he won't hold back tonight. 

Kali and her pals laugh, all morphing in their full Alpha form--which is unfortunately impressive enough to send a 'I'm so fucked' shiver down Derek's spine. Four have a half-wolf form like Peter had as an Alpha, while the other two fully change into actual wolves. That's what Derek does, too. He almost never lets himself shift fully, --unless it's to run in the woods, and always without witnesses. His wolf-form feels like a private thing to him, somehow, but that doesn't matter here.

He knows from seeing his reflection on water that his fur is black as the night, and he figures that in a last stand he might as well go big and ups his hackles, snarling.

"Oh, great. Love the posturing," Peter quips. Derek finds a strange comfort at having him at his back right now. 

One of the twins is the first to lunge and slash at Derek, who avoids it by a hair and connects in return, hard enough to make the guy roll on the forest ground. The young wolf snarls as he gets up, echoed by his brother.

Derek howls, voicing all of his rage----which is several fucking tons of it----as adrenaline floods his system. 

The Alphas don't seem fazed.

They're about to rush Peter and Derek all at once when the forest resonates around them with howls, and then the unmistakable sound of wolves closing in. It comes from all around the clearing and Derek recognizes them all: Isaac, Boyd, Erica, Jackson, even Scott. 

Derek's surprise must be evident, because Kali just grins at him with all her teeth.

Derek's Betas are now at the very edge of the clearing, eyes shining and fangs bared. Derek frankly doesn't know if he's more grateful or angry at them for being so stupid, but they're six against six now

It's not nearly enough to change how this will end, but Derek still takes advantage of the momentary distraction to bound forward and bite at the closest wolf's thigh, going for the artery. He's lucky and rips out a chuck of flesh. Blood spurts everywhere as he retreats. 

It's like a switch has been flipped and suddenly all hell breaks loose. Three of the Alphas, including Kali, come for him and Peter while the others rush the pups. Derek wants to save the Betas but he doesn't have a choice, with two Alphas gunning for him. He has to stay alive for his pack.

He's fighting Kali, and it's taking all his focus to keep her from ripping him apart with the claws on her feet and hands, when out of nowhere he hears Stiles shout "NOW!"

Derek doesn't even have time to wonder what the _fuck_ Stiles is doing there before Peter barrels into him and takes the both of them to the ground 

They've barely touched the forest floor when suddenly they're in a God-damned war zone. Gunfire and the whine of arrows fill the clearing. It's like Peter's tackled him into _Apocalypse Now_. Derek's ears are killing him and his nose is clogged with the stench of cordite. 

Derek can barely make out the Alpha pack howling in pain, and then the Alphas that are still standing run away, so fast they're merely blurs that the shooters can't hit. Two Alphas are on the ground, screeching in pain. They've been hit by wolfsbane bullets and two arrows each, like a matched set. It's one of the twins and the big vicious wolf who'd tried to intimidate Isaac a couple of weeks ago. 

Chris Argent strolls into the clearing and shoots them both in the heart. 

And the danger is gone. Just like that.

Derek takes note of the shooters: Chris Argent and Allison, of course. But there's also Stiles, the Sheriff, Doc Deaton, Mrs Morell, Danny, Lydia and Mrs McCall. Pretty much every human who interacts with his pack, then.

Derek doesn’t know what to do with this, wonders why they risked coming to help when they barely tolerate him in the first place. The Sheriff and Danny both seem overwhelmed, with their eyes wide and holding their guns tight. Derek would bet it's their first time witnessing weres otherwise than a flash of eyes and fangs at what must have been a rapid show and tell with Scott and Jackson. 

The sudden silence is broken when Boyd sits up and asks, "Erica?" 

The girl looks hurt badly, curled into a ball and clutching her belly. The first person to reach her is Stiles, who hastily gets rid of his shotgun to kneel by her side.

"Oh my God, are you okay?" he asks, and when Erica only answers with a pained whine Derek can hear Stiles heartbeat go crazy. "Oh, shit! Mrs McCall!" 

Scott's mom drops her firearm too and hurries to them. She gently pushes Stiles aside. "Let me see, honey."

"It hurts," Erica says with a little voice that makes Derek want to go over and protect her. Unfortunately, she isn't the only one injured. Isaac has a broken arm and bloody gashes on his cheek, and Scott is limping badly, jeans soaked in blood to his shin. 

While Mrs McCall, Stiles and Boyd fuss around Erica, and Deaton checks out Scott, Derek shifts back to human and sends Peter to tend to Isaac. Then he joins the Argents and the Sheriff by the edge of the clearing.

"…Absolutely insane!" the Sheriff is saying, flailing in a way that is overly familiar though rarely seen on the older Stilinski. "You _knew_ , about this, Chris? You fucking _knew_ that this town is full of _werewolves_ and you didn't think it might be a good idea to tell me?"

"It wasn't--" Chris starts.

"Oh no, no. That won't cut it," Stilinski cuts him off. "Sure, teenagers keeping it a secret, that I can understand. They're young and stupid and love danger and they all knew I'd ground Stiles for _life_ and send him to a damn _military school_ if I'd learned about creatures bumping in the night. A military school in Australia, where they don't have wolves!"

"I hate it, believe me. Stiles found out exactly how much I hate it last night and then some. But _you_ , Argent? You knew that what we had last year weren't animal attacks all along, didn't you? You fucking lead us on with that crap about the mountain lion, and all the while you knew exactly what it was and you didn't tell me!"

Chris Argent is just… sucking it up. Not even trying to argue. When Derek comes close enough to maybe distract the sheriff from his tirade, for a second Stilinski looks murderous before his expression morphs into unease and deep embarrassment. 

Oh, right. Derek's naked. Maybe the problem's also the blood Derek knows is all over him, but right now he doesn't give a fuck.

"Thank you," Derek says, though he hates owing Argents anything. "I thought your Code prevented actions interfering with pack politics."

Allison raises her chin high and Chris scoffs. "It was my daughter's choice."

Derek inclines his head to Allison, who finally smiles and shows those deep dimples of hers.

"Believe me, it's appreciated. But I can't help to wonder what comes next," Derek says.

That's when the sheriff finally addresses him. "I just… You were a _wolf_."

"Yeah." It's not like he can argue that point "Family thing."

"Your sister dying, by animal attack… Stiles told me it wasn't you," Stilinski adds.

"No, it was another were," Derek says, carefully omitting that Peter is on the other side of the clearing right now. "Same for the video store clerk, the bus driver, the school janitor and Lydia." All because of his uncle. Yeah, better not point that out. It's too bad that Chris Argent knows, though. Right now he's looking at Peter and his expression is completely conflicted.

"Jesus," the sheriff exhales.

"The Alpha pack is down two, if not more," Derek tells Allison. It seems like she's the one in charge here. "Any idea where they're hiding so we can strike while they're weak?"

Allison shakes her head. "Unfortunately, no. Stiles couldn't find a precise location."

Derek grunts in frustration. "Thank you," he says again, looking her in the eye. "Tell everyone I owe them."

"Sure thing!" Allison says with a slow smile.

After a nod at Chris and the Sheriff, Derek goes to check on the pups, starting with Isaac. The gouges on his face are healing, and he's got a dopey smile.

"Hey, we did it!" he exclaims. "And I'm not dead!"

"Congrats," Derek says, managing a smile before pulling Peter aside. "You knew!" he hisses at his uncle, voice as low as possible to avoid being grossly overheard. "You knew what would happen. You tackled me so I wouldn't get shot, too."

"Yes," Peter answers with a shrug. "Stiles told me their plan. There was no sense in telling you, though. In fact, he specifically asked that I didn't."

That stings like a motherfucker. "Why the hell not?"

"Because you would have bitched and refused, that's why." Peter sounds completely certain of it, and… well, Derek can't deny it. "You wouldn't have let them take the risk. Not if the humans could get hurt. Especially not Stiles."

And what's that supposed to mean? Derek doesn't even want to consider what Peter's saying. He bares his fangs. "It's lucky it worked at all."

But it did. Derek stalks off and pointedly ignores Stiles' fussing over Erica to go check on Scott.

It's surreal, that's what it is. Derek is sitting on the Stilinski's arm chair with a beer in his hand that he can't bring himself to drink. A few days have come and gone since the battle and the Betas are mostly healed, which is good. Boyd and Scott are caught deep in a very (very) serious Mario Kart competition while Jackson and Danny heckle them both. On the other side of the living room, the girls, Isaac and Stiles are dancing to God-awful pop songs in the space they made for themselves by pushing the couch out of the way. Derek seriously wonders if he's having a surreal dream or if he's been tossed into a different dimension until he happens to meet the Sheriff's eyes, standing by the kitchen, and who looks just as confused to see him there as a guest.

Stiles spots his father, too, and immediately bounds over to give his dad a hug. It's makes Derek ache a little to see how surprised but then extremely pleased the Sheriff looks as he laughs and then embraces Stiles back. The familiar burn of guilt nags at Derek, about how he almost cost Stiles his relationship with his father.

"You're the best, Dad!" Stiles says with a huge grin. "Thanks for agreeing to the 'Yay-We're-Not-Dead-and-I-Came-Clean-About-My-Werewolf-Friends!' party!'"

The Sheriff snorts, but he looks indulgent. "I might be reconsidering. Is that music really necessary? At that volume?"

Stiles laughs. "Totally. And I'm sorry I withheld information and twisted the truth for so long. I was just trying to keep you safe."

The Sheriff shakes his head fondly. "That's my job, not yours. So please, no more lies, okay?"

"I will tell you everything I can," Stiles promises, biting his lower lip. "I don't want to lie anymore, but –"

"Stiles." The Sheriff pauses and Derek shouldn’t eavesdrop like this on a private conversation and he knows it. He remembers his mom telling him over and over again how personal boundaries varied between Humans and Werewolves, but he never quite got the hang of it. And frankly, he never cared before. "You're just like your mom. She used to think that she was the authority on what was best for me, too. Please promise me you'll be careful and that you'll keep me in the loop as much as you can."

Instead of answering immediately, Stiles turns to him, as does his dad, and Derek won't pretend he didn't overhear the conversation. He nods. The Sheriff will be more of an asset if he knows what is going on, and maybe he'll help keep Stiles out of harm's way. That's when Derek gets a controller thrown at his shoulder, becoming an indirect victim of the epic tussle that just broke out between Scott and Boyd. He's about to growl to make them fall in line, but it strikes Derek how everyone is simply having fun right now, fighting like puppies; it's been a while since he's been surrounded by happiness. 

On the other side of the living room Erica reels Stiles in as he comes back to the impromptu dance floor, throwing her arms around his neck. She's smiling so wide that Derek can feel her contentment radiate. Her crush is still firmly in place, then, which is not surprising with how Stiles has been attentive and present in the last couple of days, making sure to keep Erica entertained and well fed. What's new is Stiles body language in return, a mix of nervousness and interest.

Derek is mostly glad of this new development, since both Stiles and Erica deserve to be happy. In a little dark recess of his soul, though, he's hurt--no, not hurt, disappointed maybe--that Stiles has forgotten all about him already, even though Derek rejected him. But at least it proves what Derek suspected, that Stiles only wanted temporary comfort at the time. 

He needs to focus on the positive, something he hasn't done for so long that he's not sure he can pull off. He'll try, but Derek wishes he could stop thinking about all the ways the nice things that are happening now could crash down around him.

Peter leans towards his ear, even though they're squished together already. "You know, our daily lives would be a lot easier if you hadn't turned a bunch of teenagers." 

They're all pretending not to be listening while Scott and Allison argue in the other room, again. 

"Shut up," Derek says, though it's weak. Peter sadly might have a very valid point.

The rest of the gang is piled on and around the bigger sofa in Jackson's rec room, eyes turned towards Lethal Weapon 2 as if their lives depend on it. Erica has her head in Stiles' lap, while her legs are draped over Isaac. Derek catches Boyd observing how Stiles is curling a strand of Erica's hair around a finger, looking sad but resigned. It was bound to happen: if Erica's crush on Stiles could be seen from the moon, Boyd's on Erica was only a tad more subtle. 

"It's pining central in here," Peter's voice is just loud enough for Derek to hear. "Isaac is making cow eyes at Scott, who's unsurprisingly doing them towards Allison. Then there's Boyd, who thought he had something with Erica, and finally you and St-" 

Derek's claws dig a fraction of an inch into Peter's thigh, puncturing his jeans, and that shuts up his uncle immediately, thank the universe for small favors.

"Enough." Derek taps Peter's now slightly bloody thigh and gets up. He needs some air.

It's a beautiful night, and the slight chill in the air makes everything more vibrant. It's almost the full moon again, and he can feel the pull of it starting in his bones. Derek recognizes the footsteps approaching before he can smell Stiles. 

"There you are," Stiles says as he gets out on the veranda. He fidgets from one foot to the other before he comes to lean on the bannister, mimicking his pose. 

They haven't interacted much since the kiss. Both Stiles and Derek have been careful to act as if nothing had happened. Stiles had smelled of embarrassment so strongly in his presence for a couple of days that all the wolves, Scott included, had thrown them confused looks (Peter seemed amused, though). Then the Alpha pack business had gone down and there hadn't been time to interact much while everyone licked their wounds and lay low.

Derek waits for Stiles to ask whatever he came out here for, but though he opens his mouth several times as if he's going to start, Stiles doesn't say anything. Derek finally cracks.

"What do you want?" he snaps.

To his surprised Stiles snorts-laughs, though it's not a particularly happy sound. "That's a very good question. World peace? A cure for cancer?"

"You were looking for me?" Derek asks.

"Yeah." Stiles pauses before he gathers his resolve. "I think I'll ask Erica to go on a date?"

Derek has no idea why Stiles found important to come to him with that, even though a direct confirmation of Stiles intentions makes something tighten in his chest. He hopes the eyebrow he raises at Stiles conveys enough of his confusion.

"And?"

Stiles bites his lip and avoids eye contact. His heart beats erratically for some reason. "So it's okay?"

"You and Erica can do whatever you want, Stiles." Derek cracks his neck and looks back at the stars. "It's not like you need my permission."

He meant it as a reassurance, to show Stiles his support, even, but weirdly Stiles smells like disappointment.

"Cool," Stiles says, though it's a definite lie. Maybe Derek didn't sound supportive enough? "I'll do that, then. Any suggestions?"

Derek raises his eyebrow even more and it makes Stiles smile for real this time.

"Yeah, right. Asking the wrong person here. I think I'll go with a classic, ask her out to see a movie or something."

"She does love popcorn," Derek says, and when Stiles chuckles, he can hope that everything will be all right.

So Stiles and Erica go on a date. Then another. A week later they declare they're going steady, as if everyone hadn't smelled their mingled scents already. 

Derek pretends he's perfectly fine with it, because he will be, real soon. He's sure.

Erica is over the moon and the rest of the pack in general are pleased at the development--Boyd hides his hurt well and since he doesn't seem to want to challenge Stiles, Derek just keeps an eye on the situation. The worst one to deal with is Peter, who throws Derek knowing looks when the lovebirds engage in public displays of affection; Derek ignores those as well. Anyway, Peter's been smelling like Chris Argent more and more lately, which gives Derek taunting ammunition right back. What Derek had first thought was Peter messing with the hunter had turned out to be a lot more personal than that. Derek learned that they'd fooled around when they were teens, even. The whole thing had come as a surprise, to say the least. 

Derek's driving back from the grocery store, cutting through St-James Street to avoid construction on Main, when he spots Stiles' Jeep parked near the cemetery's entrance. They've heard rumors of mysteriously mutilated corpses that Stiles suspects could be related to ghouls feeding, but the idiot was supposed to do an online search, not go investigate in person. It raises Derek's hackles how reckless Stiles is, always throwing himself in the middle of things without thinking first. 

Derek parks behind the Jeep and has every intention to rip Stiles a new one when he finds him, even though he can already hear Stiles saying that it's day and therefore not dangerous at all. 

The place isn't big, but Derek doesn't spot Stiles immediately, which is worrying. The wind carries his scent, though, and Derek's staking towards the source when he hears Stiles' voice.

"--it's been rough for him. On the other hand, he's taken it a lot better than I thought he would. I wish I'd told him sooner, because he's still wary and… God. I hate this. You'd have helped me, right? Make him understand why I lied?"

He stops walking and he sees Stiles, now, his back to Derek and sitting cross-legged on the grass in front of a tombstone. He's blocking the engraving from Derek's view, but it's obviously his mother's grave. Derek is immediately uncomfortable to be witnessing this. He turns to leave when Stiles starts speaking again.

"But hey, guess what! I've got a girlfriend now! Erica. Her name is Erica Reyes. I talked about her in pack stories before, right? Yeah, she's a werewolf. Derek turned her last year. She's my age, but I'm not sure you met her… before you went away. I'm pretty sure you'd love her. And you should see her, Mom! She's gorgeous. Blonde, beautiful... I like her a lot. And she likes me back! How's that for a change?" 

Derek hates that he's partly at fault for Stiles' feeling rejected. He knows he should go, but he's rooted to the spot, unable to stop listening. 

"It's been a month now. I should have come to tell you sooner, I'm sorry about that. Maybe I thought she'd –" Stiles stops for a second, but picks up right back. "She told me she loved me last night." Another pause. "I’m sure she picked up my heart going crazy, but hopefully she thought I was just emotionally constipated so I couldn't say it back or something. Because I love her, I do. "

Hearing that confirmed is surprisingly unsettling for Derek. He knows he should be glad they love each other, that the relationship is going well and that it won't mess with the pack dynamic. But he's not.

"I'm just not sure that I'm _in love_ with her. Yet." 

The relief Derek feels at that is proof enough that he's fucked in the head. He wishes he had the decency to leave and let Stiles talk with his mom privately, but he can't, no matter how cruel and pathetic that makes him. 

"It's just, I was expecting sparks and butterflies, you know? Like when The Incident happened." Stiles says with air quotes. Could be mean their kiss? Is Stiles still thinking about that, almost three months later? "Looking back, it was probably just terror and adrenaline, though. So yeah. So much for that. Anyway, slow and steady is the way to go, right? I'll let it build, hoping I'm not falling in love with the idea that she loves me, because that would suck. But hey, let's focus on the positive: I have a gorgeous girlfriend! Who loves me! Awesome!" 

Derek finally retreats, going back to his car. 

So. Stiles might have had felt more than just a need for comfort that night, then. Maybe. And then, of course, Derek had rejected him, for Stiles' own good. It was the right thing to do, even if Derek's traitorous heart twinges at the idea that he just fucked up the one chance he may have had. He fucked it up big time, but he won't try to get between Stiles and Erica now, he refuses to even consider it.

He made a choice and he's going to stick to it. It's better in the long run, anyway. This way Stiles won't grow to hate him, and they might even become friends. He'd take that, any day, over sex for a few weeks.

It's rare that Derek has all has of his Betas under the same roof to sleep, save from Peter who's out, and it quiets something deep in him when it happens. On the other hand, it would feel a lot better if the damn kids could keep their hormones in check. The torture had started with Stiles and Erica. Then Scott and Allison had went at it in their own train car turned bedroom, and as soon as _they'd_ finished, Jackson had made a production of having sex with Lydia, too. Derek's been hiding his head under his pillow and he wonders if he shouldn't ask Boyd and Isaac if they want to go run at two o'clock in the morning just to escape it all. God. 

It's blessedly quiet now, though, and Derek's just about to doze off when there's the distinct sound of Erica giggling and…. Well, damn. There they go again. Jackson yells "Come on!", annoyed, and Derek has to agree. He's usually able to ignore them, but it's the eve of the full moon and it makes every sense sharper. No wonder the matched wolves just won't stop having sex. Derek used to prowl bars and clubs on those nights, too, not that long ago. Frankly, he needs to get laid. Maybe he'd let go of his Stiles obsession more easily if he'd redirect his impulses elsewhere. On the other hand, Derek refuses to be so low as to masturbate to the images his mind is coming up with to match with the sounds. He angrily gets dressed, deciding he really should leave, when he hears Erica loudly urging Stiles on, but Stiles' answering cry is one of surprise and pain.

"Shit, ow! Fuck! Erica, stop!" Follows, urgent and pained, and Derek runs towards the car Stiles and Erica claimed as a bedroom before he even thinks about it. 

When he wrenches the door open, he's hit with the smell of sex and blood. The blood is all Stiles'. He's retreated to the inflated mattress in the corner, and Derek can see the deep ruts Erica's made with her claws all down his back. 

Derek snarls and Erica scrambles away from Stiles, her back to the corner of the train car. She brings her knees to her chest and stares at her bloody fingers with wide yellow eyes, claws sliding back in though her fangs are still out, either from bloodlust or lust alone.

It's instinct that makes Derek automatically grab Stiles and haul him off the bed to push him away from her. He snarls at Erica again, so angry he's seeing red. Erica whimpers and wedges herself even more deeply into her corner. 

"Oh my God, what the hell!" Stiles yells, his voice shaking.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Erica tells Derek, who curses himself from not having seen this one coming. He should have forbidden those two from having sex this close to the full moon. He should have thought about how easy it would be for Erica to lose control, as a new were in a new relationship.

Not turning his back on her yet, Derek forces himself to relax. "Are you okay?" Derek still asks Stiles. He can hear the boy's heart rate going about a million beats a minute.

"Stiles?" Scott is now in the doorway, sounding worried. "Shit, what happened?"

"I'm okay! What the hell, Derek? Get out! You too, Scott! You're scaring her!" Stiles says, and Derek hears the rustling as he puts clothes on, as well as the hisses of pain Stiles tries to hide.

Now that he's calmed down himself, Derek takes notice of Erica's nudity and of the way the whole car reeks of sex--of Stiles come--and it's like a punch low in the gut. He grabs the sheet off the mattress and throws it at Erica so she can cover herself. Scott still hovers, definitely not ready to leave with Stiles still bleeding.

"Yeah, I hope she's scared enough to realize what she almost did," Derek tells Stiles.

"She just scratched my back!" Stiles exclaims. Then he winces. "Okay, so maybe it was a bit too much, because, ow. But--"

"She was seconds away from biting you. Weren't you?" Derek demands. Erica looks even more shocked.

"What? No!" Stiles exclaims. Then he tries to _get around him to go to Erica,_ and Derek grabs his arm so tightly that Stiles hisses again.

"Oh shit," Erica breathes out, and she looks at Stiles with such a devastated expression on her face that it's heartbreaking, despite Derek's fury. "I was. I really, really was. I almost did! Shit!" 

Stiles is stunned and Derek sighs. "It's the moon. It got to you. You'll need to be more careful from now on at this time of the month."

"She almost lost control of the wolf," Scott says softly. He sounds like he knows what he's talking about, and Derek kicks himself inwardly that he didn't insist enough that Scott not see Allison when he had just been turned, too. Not that Scott listened to anything he said back then, or even now. He's failed his pack yet again, because he didn't even want to think about discussing weres and sex and the full moon. And his squeamishness could've cost Stiles his life.

Stiles tugs the arm still in Derek's grip and tries to go near Erica again, but she recoils from him. 

"Leave her be for a minute," Derek tells Stiles. Erica nods, looking so young right now, fully transformed back to human and clutching her sheet like a security blanket.

"Please? Just a sec," she asks Stiles with a watery smile.

"But I'm fine. Really," Stiles tries to convince her.

"Too much blood," she says softly.

Stiles reluctantly nods. "Okay, okay, I'll get cleaned up. But I'm okay, got it? Don't make that face, we're fine. I'll be back in a minute."

"Erica?" Allison calls, right outside the door. "Can I do anything? Do you want me to come in?"

Erica looks like she's about to start crying. "Yes, please."

"Man, I'm pretty sure you need stitches," Scott says, and that brings Derek's attention back to Stiles. 

Using the hold he still has on his bicep, Derek drags Stiles out of the wagon, and then hauls him under one of the emergency lights. The light is for shit here, but Derek turns Stiles around to inspect his back. Surprisingly, Stiles lets himself be manhandled, which means he's probably in shock. 

The waistband of the sweatpants Stiles pulled on in the train car is soaked with blood. Erica carved two sets of claw marks on Stiles back, shallow at his shoulders, but increasingly deep and more serious as she dragged them down. The gashes are at least eight inches long. It's bleeding pretty heavily and Derek nods at Scott to run and get the first aid kit.

All the Betas smell distressed, but Derek can't deal with them right now, not when Stiles is bleeding and trembling from shock and likely about to pass out. He makes him sit at the rickety table they eat on once in a blue moon, facing the back of the chair so his back is accessible. Derek takes his t-shirt off and balls it up to press on the cuts, trying to stanch the bleeding. Stiles yelps and tries to jerk away, but Derek just pushes harder on the t-shirt. He puts his other hand on Stiles neck to ground him.

"Shhh." Derek rubs his thumb on Stiles pulse point, feeling it jackrabbit. "You need to calm down--it'll slow the bleeding."

"How bad is it?" Stiles asks quietly.

"We should take you to the hospital," Derek admits. 

"Shit." Stiles heaves a shaky breath. "You think she'd have bitten me?"

"Yes." Stiles' pulse jumps even higher, so Derek circles it again. "It wasn't to turn you. She's not an Alpha. She didn't even want to hurt you, not really. It's just that... well wolves bite when they mate. To mark, to claim. Werewolves heal fast, so it doesn't even show the morning after."

Neither of them have to say, _but you're not a werewolf._ Stiles is smart enough to know what almost happened.

"Allison or Lydia haven't been maimed," Stiles says just as Scott comes back.

"I've wanted to, though," Scott says, because he obviously heard. "To bite and scratch her." He shrugs. "I've just been lucky to keep myself under control." 

Scott efficiently sorts what he'll need on the table and prepares some black thread for the stitches. Scott is their official EMT, as often as they can get away with it. They get hurt so much that it'd get suspicious if they went to the local ER everything something happened.

It's fucked up, but it isn't the first time that Stiles has to be stitched without anesthetics. Normally, Stiles would keep up a running commentary to distract himself from how much it has to hurt, liberally peppered with grunts and inventive swearing. But tonight he's quiet. Derek doesn't like that much, it's worrying.

Derek hears whispers and sniffs coming from Erica's room and he's really glad that Allison went in to help. And here comes Lydia, too, striding in with purpose. It's good that his Beta has some support right now, she needs it too. 

"This is going to scar," Scott says softly. Derek has to agree. 

"It's okay. It's going to look completely badass." Stiles sounds out of it; Derek hopes he hasn't lost too much blood.

Derek's wolf doesn't like marks from someone else on Stiles skin, either. But that's a whole different problem that he's got to deal with.

They'd ended up having to bring Stiles to Deaton's clinic, so he could check on Scott's work and give Stiles something for the pain. Erica spent the rest of the night holed up with the other girls; when she finally comes out in the morning, she looks terrible. Erica keeps looking at Derek out of the corner of her eyes, as if she expects him any second to leap on her and tear her apart. Instead, he brings her toast. Erica understands the gesture and offers Derek a relieved if wobbly smile. 

Derek is present when Stiles comes back late that morning, sauntering in grinning as if nothing happened the night before. The first thing he does is make a beeline to Erica, whom he hugs so hard she starts crying in his arms. They need space, so Derek orders for everyone to get out in the parking lot for training. He can hear Stiles shushing Erica with "It's okay, baby. I'm fine. It's nothing at all." Over and over again.

Way too often, Derek feels ancient despite only being 23 years old. Maybe it's all the teenagers around him all the time, though he suspects it goes a lot deeper than that. Right now, in the club Isaac chose for them, he guesses that half of the crowd must be underage--and okay, fine, he brought in eight minors, so he can't complain. Peter had the good idea to bow out of the whole thing and Derek wonders if he shouldn't start to take more cues from him. The music is too loud and the constant press and smell of bodies is unpleasant.

On the other hand, the rest of the pack seems to be having a great time. Scott is particularly gifted at bad dancing, and totally shameless about it. Erica's obviously dressed to make a statement and she is stunning in an extremely well fitted black leather dress, with her hair meticulously curled and her trademark blood-red lipstick. She's smiling at Stiles in a way Derek hasn't seen in weeks, wicked and playful, so he guesses that's good, that their relationship is getting better at last. 

When playful dancing turns into grinding, it makes Derek annoyed. He can't bring himself to watch Stiles and Erica moving together, so he goes at the bar instead. It's less of a global assault to his senses here, anyway. And even if he can't get drunk, a good scotch does burn deliciously as it goes down.

After two drinks Derek finds a high table to lean on as he watches the crowd and the way the light plays on the bodies in movement. Out of habit he counts his ducklings, and finds them still having a blast and not missing him at all, but that's okay. Then he scans the surroundings for suspicious behavior, because this is still Beacon Hills and all kinds of shit happens here all the time. He meets the eyes of a pretty brunette by the dance floor for a second, but forces himself to complete his search for danger. But when he turns towards the girl again, she's still looking his way. She even smiles. There's no doubt that she's trying to get his attention. But even though she's perfect for the kind of company Derek thought he wanted tonight, he just looks away. 

Not so ready to move on, then. Shit.

Derek is peeling potatoes in Stiles' kitchen, while, by the sound of it, there is a bit of roughhousing going on in the living room. It must be fine because Stiles is laughing, long and hard.

"Oh God, oh God, stop it!" he says before laughing again. 

"You never could defeat the tickle monster, Stiles. You know the rule! Cry Uncle!" Scott taunts.

"Never!" Stiles says, breathless. "Cheating! Using werewolf strength is cheating!"

"No, it's not!" Scott says.

"But this might be!" Isaac adds, and Stiles laughs harder. 

"Noooo! Bad Isaac, that's so unfair!"

"Okay, then," Scott says while Stiles pants heavily between residual giggling fits. "No wolf powers for 10 seconds, and we see what you can do. Ready? Starting in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1!"

There's a thud as if someone fell off the couch, then some scrabbling and Stiles yelps.

"Stop it!" Erica shouts suddenly, high and angry.

Derek throws the potato and knife in the sink, and when he reaches the doorway Erica is snarling at Scott and Isaac by the couch, hunched over Stiles on the floor. 

"Whoa!" Scott exclaims, rearing back.

"You're going to hurt him!" Erica yells.

"Come on!" Stiles says, trying to sit up. He doesn't really look hurt, though he's cradling his hand to his chest. "I'm fine, we were just playing!"

"They're stronger than you! You're going to end up with a broken--"

"Hey!" Scott interrupts, angry. "I would never hurt him!"

"Not on purpose," Erica hisses but it's Stiles who looks the angriest now.

"Guys, could you please get out? Just a second," he says to Scott and Isaac, tone tightly controlled. He hasn't seen Derek, who retreats back into the kitchen. For once Scott doesn't protest and stalks out with Isaac. As soon as the door slams shut, Stiles speaks up again. "What the fuck, Erica?"

"They hurt you!" she says, still fierce.

"No. I managed that all on my own. I hit my hand under the couch while trying to catch Isaac's ankle."

"It was bound to happen, they’re werewolf strong--"

"And I'm not. _I know_. But we were playing, I've done that with Scott hundreds of times. Our tickle fights are legendary!"

"That was before!" Erica says. "He could hurt you now! Even if he doesn't want to! "

Stiles sighs. "Erica, baby, you do realize what’s going on here, right?"

Derek winces because yeah, that's clear as day. Erica knows it too and after a long pause she groans softly.

"I know. Oh, God, I know. "

"We should take a weekend off, away from everything. I have an aunt in Fort Braggs. We could go to the beach, go shopping, whatever you want. No pack, no one listening in all the time." Did Stiles remember Derek's in the kitchen? "Just us and a chance to see if we can make it work."

"Just us."

"Yes. And next week is the New Moon, no need to worry about heightened response or anything, we'd be fine," Stiles coaxes.

"Okay. Yes." Erica sounds almost sure.

On principle Derek isn't too hot about anyone straying away from the pack where he can't protect them, but this is actually a pretty good idea. 

Erica and Stiles come back from their weekend hand in hand. They are still inseparable later that night when they all end up a the bowling alley for an impromptu tournament, therefore it's a surprise when, after throwing a strike, Stiles doesn't celebrate as expected but exchanges a couple of head nods with Erica. He then takes a deep breath.

"As a FYI, it is with regret that I announce that after careful consideration and acting really fucking grown up, Erica and I broke up." Stiles halts a couple of exclamations with an outstretched hand. "We are obviously still friends--because that's what we are the best at after all--so our change of status will not impact on pack business."

Derek isn't sure how he feels about that. It's great that they both seem so calm about it. But Derek knows he should feel badly for them, and he doesn't. He's relieved and maybe a little hopeful and that is so ridiculous that he wants to throw his ugly and smelly bowling shoes behind the counter and run away until his head is screwed on right. 

It's been quiet on the supernatural front lately, apart from a wendigo they had to get rid of when it started skirting the North border of their territory three week ago. Since it's time for finals at school, Derek's living room at the Hale house often turns into study central. It's relatively quiet today, though the wolves are getting more and more restless after four hours of math drill. When she’s satisfied most of the teens can resolve problems with their eyes closed, Lydia announces she's expected to family dinner and that yes, Jackson definitely has to come with. There is a collective sight of relief.

"What?" Lydia says, unrepentant. "You'll thank me when you all ace that test, ingrates. Are you ready Jackson?"

"Never," he says, but gets up anyway and Lydia smirks as she goes for the door. She's devious, that Lydia, always aware of what's going on, overt or not. She would have made a great wolf, Derek can understand why Peter tried, even though the way he did it was totally unacceptable.

Once they're gone, Derek feels the kinetic energy coming off his Betas in waves, so he claps his hands to get their attention.

"Okay, break time," he announces. "Isaac, you have 30 seconds and then I send the others after you."

Isaac shoots through the door with a whoop of delight. The others are all counting aloud and when they reach zero they all scrabble to be the first out, with playful growls and nips as they go. 

"You too," Derek tells Peter, who's spent the afternoon keeping blessedly quiet while reading an old moldy book about Irish lore.

"Are you kidding me?" Peter says, and it makes Derek smirk. He takes his moments of revenge where he can. 

"Not kidding. Slow the others up, keep them on their toes. Come on, now," Derek says, nodding towards the door. With a deep sigh Peter complies.

It leaves Stiles, who also gets up, but only to stretch before plopping back down on the couch with a sigh.

"I think I'm going to take a nap while it's quiet," he says, grabbing a cushion for his head.

"Why not?" Derek says, thinking it's a good idea to rest too. He'll give the kids half an hour before he goes looking for them. Stiles is hogging the couch, so Derek sits on the floor, at the end where Stiles feet are. He leans his head back against the cushion, closing his eyes.

Stiles fidgets. "D'you know what Boyd asked me today?"

Derek refrains from groaning. Of course the idea of a nap was too good to be true. "No." 

"If it would be okay if he asked Erica out."

Derek stiffens, but Stiles doesn't give out agitated vibes or anything.

"Oh?" he prompts.

"Yeah," Stiles says. "As if it's any of my business, who she dates next!"

"She still smells like you," Derek says, and frankly he thought it was just a question of time before they got back together. "You two are still very close."

"As friends! Totally platonic, there is no friend with benefits deal here, unless the benefits are cuddling. Which is very nice, I must admit. So Boyd is asking--"

"In case you'd want to get back with Erica. He doesn't want to step on your toes. Bro code and all."

Stiles laughs. "Bro code?" 

"Yep." Derek smiles too. It _is_ slightly ridiculous. But he's happy Boyd did ask Stiles about it before making a move. It means he doesn't want conflict.

"Cool. In a way. I told him to go for it, you should have seen his smile." Stiles sounds pleased.

"It won't be weird for you, if Erica hooks up with him?" _No residual feelings?_ he can't bring himself to ask.

"Well a little. But it's been almost two months, and I guess it's time to move on. If it makes her happy..." 

Derek hums in approval, and they lapse into silence once again. Derek wants to tell Stiles that he admires him, how he's so understanding and a good friend. Part of him wants to ask if Stiles has plans to move on, too, but Derek doesn't dare. He likes how they all fit right now, as a pack. It's still far better if he doesn't do anything to fuck that up.

Derek's not sure what will happen when Stiles brings in someone new, though. Which is just depressing. He knows it's selfish as fuck, but Derek doesn't want Stiles to leave. A single Stiles is good for the pack.

Not that Derek would cockblock him if he'd get hit on or something like that, Derek assures himself. He can be as good a friend as Stiles is. Probably. 

"What about you?" Stiles asks, just as Derek is about to doze off. "Wha?" Derek replies, trying futilely to stay in the quiet state of almost sleep.

"When are you going to find a girl?"

Derek sighs and then shrugs. "I'm fine like this." It's not like he can tell Stiles he's not interested in finding someone because he's crushing on him. 

"Okay," Stiles says, "I'll admit that you have the social grace of a rhino most days, but you can do charming, I've witnessed it. There's no reason you can't meet someone."

There is, actually. "And pretend I'm someone I'm not?"

Stiles hums. "Yeah, I see your point. If you lure in a girl with smiles, she'll wonder what the fuck happened when you get comfortable around her and revert to the grumpiest werewolf ever."

Derek smirks. "Now you get it."

"You should tell me your type, I could--"

"You won't play matchmaker for me, Stiles." That would be horribly, horribly awkward. "I said I'm fine. Leave it alone."

"Is it because there's already someone?" Stiles asks. 

Inexplicably Derek wants to come clean, but it would be such a terrible idea. What he overheard in the cemetery might have hinted that Stiles once was interested in him, but he was an emotional wreck at the time. He's a lot more put together now and surely he's realized how much of a bullet he dodged in not getting involved with Derek. He's aware that Stiles finds him physically attractive, but Derek is absolutely certain that he can't do friends with benefits, not with Stiles.

"Oh my God, you do!" Stiles exclaims when Derek takes too long answering. Sure he's been found out, Derek straightens up to deny, but Stiles talks over him. "Is it someone from the pack?"

The relief is so sharp that Derek makes an uncommitted grumble, not thinking of the consequences.

"Holy shit..." Stiles gapes. "It's Lydia! Oh, wow."

Lydia? Derek frowns, but Stiles has barely hit his stride. "But she's with Jackson, true love that saves and all. So you can't make a move. Shit."

"I'm not interested in Lydia!" Derek protests, but by the face Stiles makes, it's obvious he doesn't believe him. In fact, there's pity in his eyes, which is all kinds of wrong.

"I'm sorry you have to deal with that. I know all about those feelings, buddy! I've pined for unavailable people all of my life, _including_ Lydia. Well, _especially_ Lydia." Stiles sighs. "I get it. Oh boy, do I get it." 

"Stiles. I am not into Lydia," Derek repeats, but Stiles is not listening. 

"Don't worry, your secret is safe with me." How can a guy who can be so brilliant be so incredibly dense? It's like now that he's latched onto the idea, Stiles doesn't want to let it go. "It makes sense. I should have seen that one coming. Beautiful people are drawn to other beautiful people. It's the law of the Universe."

Stiles gets up and puts on his shoes. "I'm sorry to say this, but as much a douche as Jackson is most days, I've came to accept that Lydia loves him. For real." Oh geez, he's using the concerned tone now, as if he doesn't want to hurt Derek's feelings too much.

"I know!" Derek exclaims, chopping the air in front of him in frustration. "They are mates! I won't…"

Stiles honest to God pets his shoulder. "It's okay. Crushes pass."

"Maybe you should go get the puppies, they've been gone awhile," Stiles says while Derek is still gaping at him. "I need to go home."

Maybe it's better this way, Derek muses a couple of days later. He's been avoiding interacting with Lydia and Jackson and hopes that Stiles infers that Derek needs distance from his unrequited crush, while praying to all available deities that Stiles won't take on himself to give Derek advice or, horror, talk to Lydia. So far, so good, except for Stiles occasionally glancing at Lydia and Jackson all happy together and then making sympathetic faces at Derek because he feels sorry for him. And, of course, except for when Peter corners Derek about said faces when they're about to leave the clinic after a special magic-centered pack meeting. 

"And what, exactly, was that?" Peter asks, bluntly but clearly laughing on the inside. Every month that passes makes Peter a bit stronger and more defiant of Derek's status and authority. It's rapidly becoming a problem.

"It's none of your business," Derek snaps. 

"Aw, come on. It's not my fault you guys are a constant source of entertainment." Peter pauses and tilts his head. "I don't get you, Derek. Denying yourself something good isn't noble, it's stupid."

What does Peter know about being noble, anyway? 

"I'm not asking for your advice," Derek says. "And anyway, you're one to talk, because getting involved with Chris Argent is definitely stupid."

Peter doesn't deny it and laughs. "You might have a point. Fine. Do as you want. Your loss. I have a feeling getting laid would do wonders for you."

It's too tempting and Derek shoves Peter's shoulder as he leaves, making his uncle laugh even though he stumbles. Derek thought that the rest of the pack was out of earshot, but he's surprised when Stiles speaks up from behind him.

"Two things," he says, showing two fingers. He brings one down pointedly. "Peter and Chris Argent, are you kidding me?" His shocked face is hilarious.

"I'm afraid not."

Stiles looks as if he's eaten something foul and then shudders, shaking it off. Then brings down the second finger. "Secondly, and I really hate to say that, but Peter's right. Pining is stupid."

Oh, geez. Derek takes a deep breath, because if he's not careful he's going to lose it.

"Seriously!" Stiles continues. "It will just eat you up inside. You should tell Lydia how you feel. Believe me, even if it doesn't go well, a clear answer will at least make it easier for you to put the crush to rest and to move on."

"Stiles--" 

"And you know, Lydia being Lydia it means she won't be weird about it. She's used to people being in unrequited love with her, so you don't have to worry about that."

Something in Derek just breaks. He wants to shake Stiles so he stops talking, and most of all so he'll stop looking so damn pityingly at Derek all the damn time. It's been a while since he's given into the urge to manhandle Stiles but Derek fists a hand in Stiles shirt and pushes him against the wall, gets in close. 

"Stop. Enough. You aren't listening to me. It's not Lydia, you idiot." 

Stiles gapes. "Not Lydia?"

Derek can see gears turning and he knows that Stiles will inevitably come to another wrong conclusion. It's going to be hell. "No, I am _not_ telling you who he is."

Stiles blinks, and then suddenly looks pole-axed. And there's a definite hurt expression on his face before he snaps his jaw closed, hard. 

"Fine," he says, not looking at Derek anymore. All of his muscles are tense, ready for flight.

Derek lets him go and steps back. He has no idea why Stiles has gone from pitying him to this, just because it's not Lydia. Defying all expectations again, Stiles doesn't take advantage of his new freedom to leave but crosses his arms and stays put.

It's Derek who runs.

Something's definitely changed and Stiles, who had tried so hard to act as if their kiss hadn't changed anything between them, now avoids him as much as possible. If Derek had ever thought it was what he wanted, now that he's living it he's realized that it's not true at all. What's worse is that in order to avoid Derek, Stiles is cutting himself out of the pack altogether, finding excuses to bail out of outings and movie nights. 

At first, the pack chalks it up to the fact that Boyd and Erica have started dating. They think that Stiles is giving Erica space and trying to stay out of the way. Erica looks thoughtful and leaves one night, saying she's had enough and that she's going to go talk some sense into him. But she comes back a couple of hours later--alone--saying Stiles is okay, that he was just busy with something he was working on with his dad. Everyone's aware that it's a lie, even Erica, but they don't call her on it and Derek pretends he didn't feel her eyes on him as she talked. 

Not one to let things alone, Erica corners Derek later as he's working out in the far corner of the train depot they set up as a gym. She doesn't say anything, though, just sits on an overturned milk crate and glares at him.

Derek cracks first. "What do you want?"

"To kick your ass," she says. 

"What for?" Derek says, switching from push-ups to crunches. 

"Stiles isn't around because of you."

"I did nothing to Stiles."

"Oh, I know. He told me it's nothing you did on purpose. He just got his feelings hurt and I hate when that happens."

"It's been seven months, he seemed over it," Derek says, since she seems to know the story.

"He was fine being brushed off if you were straight. Since you're not, it means you didn't like _him_. So it all came back."

Derek stops doing crunches and puts both hands over his face to sigh deeply. He did say it was a guy, shit. No matter what he does, he hurts Stiles, it just isn't fair. "Fuck."

"Look, I know how shitty unrequited love is. He just needs to regroup and it's easier away from you," Erica says.

"I didn't want this mess, I tried to avoid this," Derek complains. He feels like he's living the aftermath of a breakup without even having the good part of the relationship first. One shitty kiss, that's all he had. "He should be with you guys without worrying about me. I'll go away for a while."

He looks at Erica, who looks less angry now, more pensive. "Away? But what if something happens? What if there's another wendigo?"

"I'll be a phone call away." Derek doesn't plan on going very far. Maybe he'll just pretend to leave Beacon Hills and hole up in the Hale house. 

"You care about him," Erica says softly. 

Derek rolls his eyes. "Of course I do. I never wanted to hurt him."

He better leave now, he figures. There's nothing left to do here. The soonest Stiles is back to himself with the help from his friends, the better it'll be. As Derek mops sweat from his workout with a towel, it makes him think that going a town away to rent a motel room with decent water pressure wouldn't be a bad idea either. Maybe a break will help him to get his head on straight, too.

"Hey, Derek!" Erica calls when he reaches the door of his train car. He turns to look at her. "Stiles said you liked one of the guys. Is that even true?"

Derek can't help a half smile. "Yeah. But he deserves better than what I can offer. Text me when you think it's okay for me to come back."

Derek wakes up when he hears the Jeep approaching. With the Camaro out in front of the house, Stiles is sure to know he's here. Knowing the guy, if he has to say something he won't leave until it's said and there is no point in hiding. Derek puts his jeans and t-shirt on while Stiles parks outside. By the way he slams his door and then stomps towards the house, Stiles is probably pissed.

"Derek Hale, don't even try to pretend you're not here," he says as he enters.

"What do you want?" Derek asks from the top of the stairs.

"What are you doing here? You are an Alpha, you need to be with your pack." Stiles has his arms crossed over his chest, brow furrowed.

"They're fine." Boyd took on himself to report whatever is going on in town by text, which Derek appreciates. Isaac told him they all went to Stiles' the night before and had a good time. Derek believes he made the right decision for everyone.

"I can't believe you! Erica says you've went away because of me," Stiles says.

Derek shrugs. "This way you won't have to stay away to avoid _me_."

Stiles rolls his eyes. "And you didn't think that it was my choice to make?"

"Sure. But they miss you." Stiles is the glue that makes the pack stick together, especially with Scott, Allison and Lydia. If he stays away for too long, Derek is pretty sure the whole gang will splinter apart. The pack really needs Stiles, not him.

"And now they miss you."

Derek doesn't answer but goes down the stairs, then towards the kitchen; Stiles follows. It's still early, but if he's going to be up he better eat breakfast. He's got granola bars in a drawer, if the mice didn't find them yet.

When Stiles speaks again, he's a lot more subdued. "I'm sorry I drove you away. It's not what I wanted and you should come back."

The oatmeal bars are still good and Derek throws Stiles one before opening his.

"If I do, will you stop avoiding the pack?" he asks. What he's really asking is 'Will you stop avoiding _me?_ '.

Stiles nods and eats his bar in silence. Derek knows the reprieve will be short. He's right, because as soon as he's done, Stiles takes a deep breath and plows on.

"Erica, who is the best ex ever by the way, told me that you said whoever this guy is who you like is better off without you."

"She should have kept that to herself," Derek says, though he's not surprised she didn't.

"You can't honestly believe that?" 

Derek scoffs. "You can't base a relationship on sex alone."

Stiles frowns. "Of course not."

"Well, that's all I can offer," Derek says. 

"What?" Stiles looks at him as if he's crazy. "Bullshit. You're loyal, protective, funny in your own way…. There's way more to you than your admittedly awesome body and face." By the way Stiles' heart is beating, he means what he's saying. 

"I also have massive trust issues, I'm shit at communication, and I don't deal well with abandonment." Derek figures that since he's opening up, why not get it all out? "Dating inside the pack would be a time bomb until the unavoidable break-up."

Stiles huffs, disbelieving. "Unavoidable? Wow, way to be cynical."

"Oh, yeah, I forgot," Derek sneers. "I'm cynical. It tends to get on people's nerves."

"You're cynical because you surround yourself with doom and gloom," Stiles says, sweeping his hand around to encompass the whole house. "You deserve happiness as much as everyone else, Derek."

"No," Derek says, meaning it. Listening to Stiles say these things feels like some kind of blasphemy, here, where his family died because of him. He knows that he'll never forgive himself for it. He doesn't want to.

He doesn't deserve to.

"Hey." 

Derek looks up and Stiles has come closer, enough to put a hand on his arm; he looks so earnest.

"I know what you're thinking, but what happened here--that was Kate's doing. Not yours."

"You don't know everything," Derek says, but he doesn't shake Stiles hand off.

"What don't I know, that she seduced you first?" Stiles doesn't make it a question, and Derek knows he confirms Stiles' suspicions when he doesn't deny it. "Still not your fault." 

That's enough to make Derek jerk away, shaking his head. "They all died, Stiles."

"I know. But as unfair as you feel it is, you didn't. You're still alive, Derek. You can't let Kate destroy your whole life too!"

"I'm not!" Derek snaps. It's not that he doesn't want to be happy; it's that he knows if he gives in and tries and it doesn't work, that might destroy him for good.

"Look, maybe dating in the pack isn't the greatest idea," Stile continues. "I'm lucky that my breakup with Erica left us okay to still hang out. But the thing is, you don't choose whom you fall for, man."

"Believe me, I know," Derek says, smiling ruefully. He feels so fond of Stiles right now that he's just glad the kid's not a wolf, because Derek's sure even his Alpha's ability to hide his scent wouldn't mask anything.

"Oh my God, is it Jackson? It's Jackson, isn't it? 'Fess up," Stiles says, putting a hand on his chest in fake shock, just to make Derek laugh.

"No," Derek says, his smile widening in reaction. Jackson's handsome, but no fucking way.

He thought Stiles would leave it at the joke, but instead he gets a considering look on his face. "Boyd?"

Answering that is a slippery slope, but after thinking for a second, Derek decides _screw it_ and goes with it. Stiles is a persistent fucker and if he really wants to know, he'll nag and nag until Derek tells him just to save his sanity. Better he comes clean now than blurting the truth out later at the worst possible time. 

Derek pretends to consider Stiles guess for a second--Boyd _would_ be a sensible choice after all--and then smirks and shakes his head. "No."

Stiles blinks, realizing that Derek's actually going to answer him. "Isaac?"

"Nah," Derek says with a half shrug. "He's got way more of a little brother vibe."

This time Stiles eyes widen. "Oh my God! Scott? Really?"

"No," Derek says, cutting that freak out short. 

But that leaves only one choice, and suddenly Derek's hands are clammy and his heart is pounding. Derek is really not sure he's ready for Stiles to know, but at the same time, he does. Desperately.

After sighing in relief, Stiles crunches his face, totally confused. He looks away, frowns, and then his face clears and Derek braces himself for the moment of truth. 

And then Stiles says, "Oh! Danny! Of course!"

Derek blinks, and then rolls his eyes. "No, dumbass!" 

"No?" Stiles says, confused again. 

"No," Derek says. And then it's really hard to say anything.

But maybe Stiles is right, and he deserves a little happiness of his own for a change. And he's a God-damned Alpha, which means it's time for him to step up for once and be as brave as Stiles was with that kiss all those months ago. Maybe Derek can just plow through every fear he has, every hang-up he's let stop him until now and go for it. 

It might not last forever--it probably won't, if he's honest, because Derek knows who he is--but he's alive just like Stiles said, and living means taking the chance to get his heart broken all over again.

"Do you want to go see a movie later?" Derek asks, surprised how steady his voice is, considering that he's terrified.

"Sure," Stiles says, before the meaning sinks in. Then he looks so disbelieving that Derek can't help smiling. "Wait--you like _me_?"

"A lot," Derek admits.

Stiles doesn’t look particularly happy, though, even though his heart rate has picked up like crazy. He looks angry, actually. He steps forward and pokes Derek on the chest. "You asshole! Why didn't you say anything? You know I like you too!"

"Still?" Derek asks softly, because it's been months. Never mind that it's been a lot longer than that for himself. 

"Yes!"

Derek itches to touch, and using his new found courage, he gives in and cups the side of Stiles face before kissing him lightly on the mouth. It's the polar opposite of their first kiss, like hope instead of despair. 

Derek pulls away just enough to murmur against Stiles lips. "I'm warning you now that I'm terrible at this." 

He meant relationships, but Stiles, who's stepped forward and snaked his arms around Derek's neck, smiles widely. "Don’t sell yourself short. It was a very nice kiss."

Is that how it's going to be, easy and playful? Probably not, not all the time, but that's okay. Derek uses his free arm to haul Stiles close, tilts his head and kisses him for real, deep and insisting, letting go only when he senses Stiles is totally out of breath. To be honest, they're both pretty wrecked.

"More than nice," Stiles pants, arousal so strong in the air it's making Derek dizzy.

"We should take this slow," Derek declares, nosing the side of Stiles' neck (frankly, he's trying to convince himself right now). He doesn't want to drive Stiles away by being too needy too fast.

But Stiles makes a protesting noise before rolling his hips against Derek's, making them both groan. "Only if that's what you want," he says. "Because I'm so ready for this."

"Are you sure?" he forces out, pulling back enough to look at Stiles in the eyes. He's beautiful as always but his eyes are now darker, almost all pupil, and he has a flush high on his cheeks that make him stunning. 

Stiles holds his gaze. "I am two hundred percent sure. Various issues included." He believes it, too. 

"You've got to promise me something," Derek says, and Stiles nods immediately. "Don't let me fuck this up. Tell me if something's wrong."

"Only if you do the same, okay? No stoic bullshit."

Derek nods and Stiles leans in for a kiss again, which rapidly turns hot and heavy when Derek pushes him against the wall beside the cupboards, boxing him in. The way Stiles' respiration hitches each time he breathes in is one of the hottest thing Derek has ever heard. He wants to know what other noises he can pull out of him, what he'll sound like getting fucked. The mere idea makes Derek grind up against Stiles, who whines deep in his throat. It's too much for Derek's self control. He needs to get Stiles in his bed right the fuck now. 

Pretty sure Stiles wouldn’t appreciate being hauled across his shoulders, Derek takes a second to tell him "come on," before grabbing his hand and pulling him along towards the stairs. 

Stiles chuckles but eagerly follows. But when they reach the mattress on the floor where he sleeps, it hits Derek how terrible this place is for a first time and he freezes. Stiles deserves so much better than this. 

Derek starts to pull the other way, to drag Stiles back down stairs and to the car, to find a motel instead, when Stile protests.

"Hey, where are you going?"

"Somewhere nicer." Derek tugs on Stiles' hand but he won't budge.

"What? I see a mattress, with real springs! This is fantastic!" Stiles is smiling widely and Derek hesitates. But it's not bad to want things to be as good as possible, is it? "Aww, your face right now, Stiles coos. "You're a secret romantic, aren't you?"

Derek knows Stiles is just teasing, but it stings a little and he looks down at their hands, unsure what to do next.

"Hey, hey," Stiles says softly, stepping in close and bringing their foreheads together, a hand resting lightly on Derek's nape. "That's very sweet. Really. I love it. I'm finding hidden depths in you already, Derek Hale."

"I've never done things the right way," Derek confesses. 

"Oh. Well if you put it like that, I get it." Stiles hums thoughtfully. "Is that what you meant by taking it slow? Date first, make out, fuck eventually?"

Derek nods. "Yeah. But I'm not sure I can wait. I really, really want to fuck you right now."

Stiles' throat clicks when he swallows. "Hot damn. Okay, then, let's compromise. Let's get out of here and go eat a proper breakfast, then see that movie. The first showing should be around 1 o'clock. We make out in the back if possible. Then you get us a room somewhere where we fuck until we pass out in bliss."

Derek's been smiling wider and wider as Stiles laid out that plan, overwhelmed by a wave of affection so strong he wants to grab on to him and never, ever let go.

"I knew there was a reason I kept you around," Derek says, giving into the urge to hug Stiles. Hard.

"Oh, you're a super secret hugger too? That's awesome. And yes, master strategist here!" Stiles says, hugging back just as tight. There is even a little swaying, it's a good hug. "Come on, now, let's get this show on the road."

Derek laughs and lets Stiles lead, trusting him with everything he has.

 

***

***

This is the natural end of this story, the one that feels right. But if, for some reason, you want a peek at what comes a little later – a porny epilogue of sorts -, then the next scene, in the next chapter, is for you. ♥


	2. porny epilogue

The hotel room is very nice. Derek throws his bag by the side of the bed and peeks a look in the bathroom: the Jacuzzi is nice and big, and it will definitely get christened later. Thinking of what Stiles will look like, wet and naked, makes Derek grow hard. Again. He feels as if he's been in a permanent state of arousal since their first kiss in the kitchen.

He's considering jerking off to take the edge off when there's a light rapping sound on the door, and when Derek opens it Stiles all but throws himself in Derek's arms, mumbling about how waiting for five minutes was definitely five minutes too long.

Grinning, Derek manages to close the door while he keeps kissing Stiles, who's pretty much climbing him like a jungle gym. Derek hauls one of his thighs up to help Stiles wrap his legs around his waist, making it easy to walk him in the suite towards the bedroom. It's only when Derek lowers him on the bed that Stiles looks around.

"Oh, nice! Huge bed, I like," he says, appreciative. Derek mouths at his neck, and is rewarded by a full body shiver and hands clawing at his t-shirt. Good to know.

He needs more skin, more Stiles, who is clad in an annoying amount of layers. It's a brief struggle to get rid of it all while Stiles is trying his best to get Derek tangled in his own clothes in return. Much fumbling and Stiles laughing later, they're both naked, skin to skin, and laughter turns into pants and moans as they move against each other, kissing and kissing. Stiles smells great and tastes better, and Derek can't get enough. In fact, he needs to blow Stiles right now, he decides. He'd love to take his time to kiss every inch of him going down, but he's too impatient. Derek kisses Stiles' mouth deeply and thoroughly before pulling off, then shimmying down the bed. A peck on a nipple, another on Stiles' belly, and yeah, Stiles totally gets with the plan.

"Holy shit, yes, please!" he says as Derek shoulders Stiles thighs apart to get comfortable on the bed. When he grips Stiles cock, so stiff for him, Stiles curses some more, which he just keeps up when Derek takes him in his mouth. It's been a while, but sucking cock is something he's been told he's great at. Stiles seem to agree, keeping a constant litany of praise going between the cursing. It's actually kind of funny, but Derek lets the words fade to white noise while he concentrates on what he's doing. 

"Fuck, Derek, so fucking hot. If you could only see yourself, Jesus...!"

Derek can tell Stiles is teetering on the edge, cock swelling as he whimpers. He grabs Derek's shoulder and then comes down Derek's throat. Derek swallows everything he has to give.

"God," Stiles says between taking big gulps of air afterwards. He's totally relaxed, as if the orgasm drained him of his usual manic energy.

Letting Stiles cock slip from his mouth, Derek rubs his chin on the inside of Stiles' upper thigh, wiping off excess saliva. The temptation to bite is strong; there's a primal urge to mark Stiles forever, but he won't do that without Stiles' permission. The only thing Derek allows himself is a slight lengthening of his fangs that he carefully drags over the knob of Stiles' hipbone before kissing it. Stiles' heartbeat spikes suddenly, and a look up reveals that Derek didn't hide his teeth well enough. Stiles' eyes are wide with alarm.

Derek kisses the same spot again. "Shh. It's okay. Don't worry, I wouldn't--"

Stiles bites his lower lip before he interrupts. "It's okay. Really. In fact, I'm wondering if it's normal to find that as hot as I think it is." 

It's true, Derek realizes. Stiles isn't frightened, only aroused. Derek smiles. "When have you ever been normal?" he teases.

It makes Stiles laugh, which causes warmth to spread in Derek's chest. He's still unbelievingly hard, but when he gets up it's just to lie with Stiles for a bit, indulge himself with what he thought he could never have.

Predictably, Stiles derails that too. "Oh, hell yeah. Come here big guy," he urges as soon as Derek moves, making comical little grabby hands gestures in the direction of Derek's groin. 

"Flip over," Derek orders, tapping his hip. 

"Oh. Oh, God, okay. Great idea," Stiles says. He rolls onto his belly immediately, but it's clear he's nervous. 

The last thing Derek wants is to make Stiles nervous. "We don't have to go all the way," he says quickly. "There's lots we can do first." Derek settles back between Stiles thighs, hands caressing him from his shoulders to ass. 

The scars from Erica's claws have healed and faded, but they're still stark against Stiles' pale skin. It makes Derek's guts churn. He hates that Stiles was hurt, and detests that someone else marked him. Derek bends forward to kiss the scars, running his tongue on their length, trying to make them his.

"Ticklish!" Stiles squirms, and Derek can't resist laughing, then stretching over Stiles to reach over his shoulder to kiss him long and hard. He rubs his erection on Stiles lower back. 

"Christ, yes. I want you, Derek," Stiles says as soon as Derek releases his mouth. "Fuck me, please." 

"Are you sure?" Derek will hear the lie if he's not.

"Absolutely," Stiles says. "Do you have any idea how much I've fantasized about this?" He can't gesture much while face down, but he gives it a try, spreading his hands wide and almost face-planting on the bed. "A whole lot."

Derek smiles in the crook of Stiles' neck, satisfied that he's as certain as he says. "I've thought about fucking you, too," he murmurs in Stiles' ear. "A whole lot."

The one good thing about being sixteen is that Stiles is definitely ready to go a second round already and he humps the bed with a keening noise.

"Then what are you waiting for? Come on, do it," he says, voice cracking.

There are lube and condoms in Derek's duffel, so he fishes those out and puts them on the bed next to them. There's more than one way to prep Stiles, though, and he wants to make his first time being fucked as good as he can. For that Derek rearranges Stiles, hooking his arm around his waist to haul him up as he slides a pillow between Stiles' hips and the bed. He pushes Stiles' thighs open, grabs his butt and licks in between his ass cheeks, from his perineum to the top of his crack.

Visibly surprised, Stiles makes a gargled sound and humps the pillow. 

"Is that okay?" Derek asks, rubbing his cheek against Stiles' ass. The stubble must be scratchy, and the delicate skin is turning red.

"Very much okay. Oh my God," Stiles says.

With that permission given, Derek eats him out, teasing and then probing at Stiles' asshole with his tongue, taking Stiles' very vocal cues to know what feels best. When he feels that Stiles is getting looser, welcoming, he uses fingers too. If getting blown made Stiles talk non-stop, a rimjob makes him practically pre-verbal, apart from the very inventive cursing. He squirms again, pushing back to take in more of Derek's fingers, especially when Derek breaks out the lube and starts deliberately rubbing his prostate. 

Seeing how Stiles is enthusiastically taking two and then three fingers makes Derek's desire skyrocket after having managed to keep it in check until now. He wants to slide into that velvety soft heat and take, chase his own pleasure. 

Stiles thrusts back even harder, to meet Derek's hand and tongue. "Fuck me fuck me fuck me," he chants. "Derek, please." And that's what breaks Derek's resolve. How can he resist, when he's asked so nicely?

He slides his fingers out and lets go of Stiles to grab a condom. There's lube everywhere, and it's not easy to open the foil packet.

"What? Why did you stop?" Stiles protests almost immediately, before looking over his shoulder and seeing Derek roll down the condom. He's completely flushed, eyes heated and has probably never been more beautiful. "Oh! Yes, finally. Come on!"

"So impatient," Derek says, though his own restraint is mostly a front by this point. He guides his dick to Stiles' entrance and pushes in, going slow. When Stiles tenses, Derek stops, shushing him. "Breathe, take your time."

The last thing he wants is to hurt Stiles, so he needs to keep all the control he has left and resist the urge to move. He focuses on how incredibly tight Stiles is, using all of his senses to figure out when it's going to be fine to move again. 

"You're doing so good," Derek praises, bending to kiss between Stiles' shoulder blades. "You feel amazing."

"Yeah?" Stiles chokes out, sounding pleased. "Well you feel huge. Jesus."

Damn it, it's too much. Derek kicks himself inwardly for his impatience and starts pulling himself out. "I'm sorry. We don't--"

"If you say we don't have to, I am going to skin you alive," Stiles protests, pushing his ass up to get more.

"Okay, okay," Derek murmurs, gasping with relief and desire. "I don't want to stop."

It feels like forever before Stiles finally relaxes and there's give in the death grip around the head of Derek's dick. Derek grits his teeth so he won't lose himself and start rutting like an animal. Instead he stays still until Stiles starts to rock slowly beneath him. 

"That's it," Derek encourages breathlessly. Stiles makes a sound in the back of his throat and moves with more insistence now, slowly taking more of Derek's cock. 

"Oh, fuck," Stiles moans, getting a rhythm going.

Derek lets himself move at last, going in counterpoint and taking Stiles cues. He's careful and slow and it gets easier and easier, and soon Derek bottoms out, completely buried in Stiles. 

"So good," he says, kissing the knobs of Stiles' spine. He feels the tell tales signs of his release building fast, too fast. "Too good. I won't last."

"I'm close, too. Oh, God, Derek--"

Pulling back, Derek hauls Stiles up to his hands and knees, which makes it easier to move in longer strokes that Stiles takes beautifully. Derek knows he can't hold back his climax any longer, so he tries to bring Stiles over the edge with him, reaching around and closing his hand around Stiles' dick. He's too far gone to coordinate his strokes with his thrusts, but by the sounds Stiles is making, it's good anyway.

His orgasm takes Derek by surprise when it hits, punched out of him with a rush so strong he whites out. Sensation that isn't just pure pleasure comes back in a faint awareness of the staccato tapping of Stiles' heart; the vise grip he has on Stiles' hips; the taste and smell of his skin where he's mouthing at Stiles' neck. Stiles has his own hand over the one Derek kind of forgot about around Stiles' dick, jacking himself furiously. Derek is still trying to get with the program again when Stiles comes for a second time with a cry and collapses onto the bed, panting loudly and obviously not caring that he's trapped one of Derek's arm under him.

Slowly Derek pulls out, soothing Stiles with the hand he can use. Getting rid of the condom takes a little maneuvering, and as soon as it's done Derek stretches over Stiles' back again, using his weight to pin him to the bed. So much soft skin, and lean muscles, and Derek takes a moment to enjoy it before he rolls off to lie next to Stiles, still trapped by his arm.

With effort, Stiles lifts his head enough to grin at Derek, radiating contentment and happiness. Derek scoots closer and kisses him softly, petting his hair.

"You're incredible," he tells Stiles.

Stiles beams. "Yeah? Well it _was_ amazing," he says. He grabs the totally ruined pillow and throws it to the floor before scooting over, ending with his head pillowed on Derek's shoulder. "I mean… wow."

Derek kisses the top of his head, reveling in the absolutely phenomenal afterglow. "It's been a while," he admits. "I promise I'll make it better next time."

"Better?" Stiles goggles. "Do you want to kill me? Homicide by sex--Try to explain that one to my dad afterwards. You'll be going down for life, mister."

Derek huffs. "Can we please not talk about your dad and how illegal this is?"

Stiles pats Derek's belly. "Okay, okay, sorry." He wriggles to get more comfortable, leaning even more heavily on Derek's arm, which is going numb. "How about I don't bring up the dubious legality of our age difference as long as we do it again. And again."

"Fine." Derek smiles, because that sounds like a plan he can agree on.

When Stiles grins right back, Derek knows he's made the right choice in risking it all. Right at that moment, in a nameless hotel room with this boy who drives him nuts most days, Derek officially gives up his heart. 

And trusts. 

 

The End

***

***

BTW, I am aware that both sections have similar closures. I am not particularly sorry about it. :P

**Author's Note:**

> Again, I urge you you to skip right to this story's master art post [in this A03 entry](http://archiveofourown.org/works/629926) and go tell [keyweegirlie](http://archiveofourown.org/users/keyweegirlie) how fantastic everything is :)
> 
> As a FYI, the title is shamelessly borrowed from the song ["One and only"](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wA4ppvp2IzY) by Adele
> 
>   **"One And Only"**
> 
> You've been on my mind  
> I grow fonder every day,  
> Lose myself in time  
> Just thinking of your face  
> God only knows  
> Why it's taken me so long  
> To let my doubts go  
> You're the only one that I want
> 
> I don't know why I'm scared, I've been here before  
> Every feeling, every word, I've imagined it all,  
> You never know if you never try  
> To forgive your past and simply be mine
> 
> I dare you to let me be your, your one and only  
> Promise I'm worthy to hold in your arms  
> So come on and give me the chance  
> To prove that I'm the one who can  
> Walk that mile until the end starts
> 
> [...]
> 
> A song that, I think, makes a great counterpoint to Derek's POV in this story :)
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
